imsolev 
 
Marian 
 
 A Prisoner s Soliloquy 
 
 A TEMPERANCE POEM 
 By ISABELLA M, SOLEY 
 

 Entered in the Oifice of the Librarian of Congress at 
 Washington, D. C, in the year 1909 by Isabella M. Soley. 
 
 Pittsburgh Printing Company 
 Pittsburgh, Pa. 
 
 Library of congress 
 
 Two Cootes Received 
 
 jUN a i^uii 
 
 ,„ Ccuyri^nl Entry ^ 
 
 '^' 
 
 CLAiiS /f AXc N ,, 
 
MOTTOES. 
 
 Righteousness exalteth a nation; but sin is a' 
 reproach to any people. — Prov. xiv. 34. 
 
 God l)less every one, American, EngHsh or 
 Turk, who win help to heal this open sore of the 
 world. — Livingstone. 
 
 'Xet us have faith, that right makes might." 
 
 ''Be sure you put your feet in the right place ; 
 then stand firm." 
 
 "I want it said of me that I plucked a thistle 
 and planted a flower." — Lincoln. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 To those everywhere, who are convinced of 
 the terrible, widespread and ever increasing evils 
 of the manufacture and licensed sale of intoxicants, 
 and that total prohibition is the only efTectual 
 remedy, this little booklet is, with great pleasure 
 and respect, dedicated by the author. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 HE author of this soHloquy read an ac- 
 count of a man l)eing arrested for the 
 murder of his wife by a blow given when 
 temporarily insane from the effects of 
 alcohol. The saloonkeeper who tempted this re- 
 formed man, was also a magistrate, and gave the 
 warrant for his arrest. The thoughts of this pris- 
 oner, as suggested, together with varied incidents 
 and experiences in connection with city mission 
 work are embodied in this poem. 
 
 I trust it will commend itself to every true 
 patriot who would gladly use all his or her influ- 
 ence to destroy this gigantic sin of the nations. 
 Heaven speed the day; and bless everywhere and 
 in all ways that are wisest and best, every true 
 friend of the temperance cause. 
 
 Very truly, 
 
 I. M. S. 
 
Marian 
 
 A Prisoner s Soliloquy 
 
 I. 
 
 Where am I? Speak! What bare bleak walls are 
 these? 
 
 These windows barred? Great heavens ! Is this a 
 jail? 
 
 Why am I here? Why am I not at home? 
 
 My pleasant, happy, tasteful, peaceful home, 
 
 Lighted by Marian's smiles. Why am I here? 
 
 Take, take me to my home. This is not home. 
 
 There, are soft carpets ; every window hung 
 
 With graceful drapery. From crystal vases 
 
 Ever look forth flowers, the sweetest and the love- 
 liest. 
 
 There, from the polished grate — 
 
 The evening fire sends forth its cheerful glow; 
 
 And flickering plays with each familiar thing; 
 
 Now here, now there, so warm, so bright, its touch, 
 
 A thing of beauty; best, brightest, when it shines 
 
lo Marian: .-/ Prisoners Soliloquy. 
 
 On Marian's pure and lovely face. On Marian's, 
 Filled with happy, peaceful light; affection's light; 
 Love's sun, o'er w^hich has never passed a cloud, 
 Since first it rose ; in life's bright morn arose. 
 And looked out sweetly from her gentle eyes; 
 And made earth seem like heaven. This is not 
 
 home. 
 Here all is strange and homeless; bleak and bare; 
 Shut in, barred in; Say, tell me, why is this? 
 In mercy speak; haste ; would you drive me wild? 
 
 II. 
 
 What did you say? That I was in a jail? 
 
 What mean your words ? I, in a jail ? 
 
 Jails are for criminals ; not such as I ; 
 
 I, to whom justice, honor, truth and love. 
 
 To all iiiankind, were constant watchwords. 
 
 Peace, you are wihl ; unlock these prison doors; 
 
 And let me hasten quickly to my home. 
 
 III. 
 
 Hark ! hark, what do I hear? A voice that sounds - 
 
 Solemn and far away. It is a wild 
 
 x\nd fearful dream. A voice; what does it say? 
 
 I have no home, O God ! And that I am * 
 
 In jail for murder. I, a murderer ! I ! 
 
 O never, never, never ! O my God ! 
 
 Not on my honest name, that deadly brand. 
 
Marian : A Prisoners Soliloquy. 1 1 
 
 My brain is whirling. Am I sick, or wild? 
 
 In jail for murder; I ! impossible. 
 
 Who did I murder? Can you tell me that? 
 
 I murder, did you say? When? Where? How? 
 
 Who? 
 My wife, and does she know ? Did you tell her ? 
 
 IV. 
 
 And one made answer then — Your wife ; alas : 
 It was your wife you murdered. 
 
 V. 
 
 He heard no more ; 
 
 For the dread words rang through that gloomy cell ; 
 
 Fell on his ears, as falls a thunder knell ; 
 
 And dropping suddenly,' as dead, he fell. 
 
 VI. 
 
 What dismal place is this? Bare floor and walls; 
 
 Barred windows, heavy bars; that shut out half 
 
 The day ; a narrow bed ; a single chair ; 
 
 A little table ; and ah, worse than all, 
 
 The door, strong, double locks, and massive bolts. 
 
 Are drawn between me and the outside world; 
 
 They shut me in from all I love on earth ; 
 
 From all its fresh green beauty; all its life; 
 
 Its loving, suffering, kindred human souls ; 
 
 From all the breathing, moving, working world. 
 
12 Mariiiii: A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 These dreadful barriers bolt me from my home ; 
 Are drawn between m^ and my noble boy; 
 The sweet, low music of my daughter's voice ; 
 And the glad welcome of my Marian's eyes. 
 Shut up, confined within this gloomy cell ; 
 Just light enough to make me not forget 
 That there is light; to not forget the grand 
 Old Sun; who smiles and ever smiles and makes 
 The Earth rejoice ; while ever looking back 
 With answering smiles, into his glorious face. 
 
 VII. 
 
 And I am here; for what? Ah, it comes back 
 
 Tome. For murder, did they say ? When? Who? 
 
 It seems like ages since I heard that voice, 
 
 That called me murderer. 
 
 Who did they say I murdered ? 
 
 O my God ! My wife ! O Marian, Marian ! No; 
 
 It cannot, cannot l)e. She, whom 1 loved 
 
 More than my life. My Marian, thou, for whose 
 
 Dear sake, I could have died; could willingly 
 
 Have died; to save thy precious, priceless life; 
 
 Or shielded thee from pain or sorrow. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Speak;- speak again; could I have heard aright? 
 A blow when drunk ; a deadly, fatal blow. 
 A blow! and Marian! Struck Marian, did 
 
Marian: A Prisoner s Soliloquy. 13 
 
 You say? My gentle wife, when I was drunk? 
 Drunk ! drunk ! it comes ; it comes ! Who made me 
 
 drunk? 
 Ah, I remember now. The cruel hand 
 Held out to me ; the bland and specious smiles ; 
 And how the 'red wine sparkled in the glass 
 And moved and showed its beaded eye; and when 
 Its odor touc'hed my senses, how the thirst awoke ; 
 The thirst, which I had thought would wake no 
 
 more ; 
 That T had striven for years to overcome ; 
 Had striven for Marian's sake, and thought myself 
 A victor. God had helped me; Christ had helped 
 Me; and I thought, that never more would I 
 Touch the accursed thing. O Christ, my Lord, 
 I thought that I was past temptation; that 
 the deadly thirst had gone to sleep forever. 
 Fatal mistake. 
 
 Unarmed, unguarded, when I saw that cup 
 Brimming with beaded wine, the slumbering thirst 
 Awoke; woke suddenly and mightily; woke like 
 A demon; like an uncaged tiger woke; 
 Raged through my veins ; burnt through my nerves. 
 And fired my brain. Forgive me, O my God ! 
 My Saviour, my Redeemer, pardon me. 
 Alas I looked upon the wine, when it 
 Was red ; when all its tempting color glowed ; 
 When there, the serpent coiled; and moved himself 
 
T4 Marian: A Prisoner's SoUloqny. 
 
 Aright; Ah me, the poisonous bite. 'Tis past. 
 I feel the adder's sting; at last, at last. 
 
 IX. 
 
 I looked upon that deadly cup; aye more — 
 
 I touched, I snatched it eagerly; and more — 
 
 I drank the draught; I drained it to the dregs; 
 
 And all was lost. My brain was maddened ; and 
 
 How many more I drained, I know not ; ask — 
 
 That Cain behind the bar. He knows. He knows. 
 
 What will he say? Am I my brother's keeper? 
 
 Like the old Serpent in the garden, he ; 
 
 His brother's tempter. He destroys his brother. 
 
 His brother's murderer. He degrades, destroys, 
 
 Enslaves. The brand of Cain is on his brow. 
 
 Ah, thou hast ruined me and murdered mine; 
 
 Red-handed slayer of thy brother man; 
 
 Thy brother's blood must ever from the ground 
 
 Cr}^ out against thee. 
 
 X. 
 
 Mine and Marian's ; aye, 
 Marian, Marian; other faces rise 
 Before me now; brave, noble, beautiful. 
 Beloved; with heavenly gifts, by patient toil 
 To highest culture wrought ; the light of homes, 
 The joy of hearts; dragged from the sunlit heights, 
 On which they proudly stood; down, down, to 
 shame ; 
 
Marian: A Prisonc/s Soliloquy. iq 
 
 To poor, degraded, trembling, shaking things ; 
 Like withered leaves upon the tree of life ; 
 And falling prone with every passing breeze ; 
 Nerveless and strengthless, as they fluttering rags; 
 Scarcely a semblance of the human left ; 
 But loathsome blots on our humanity. 
 Naught left them but a grave; a drunkard's grave; 
 A hopeless grave; a grave that closes them 
 From all the righteousness, the joy, the peace 
 And glory of God's kingdom. 
 
 XI. 
 
 A ruined life; a sudden, fearful death; 
 
 A soul forever lost; is this not murder? 
 
 Are, these not poisoned? And with that which 
 
 blights 
 And kills the body ; hardens, scorches and 
 Burns up the brain, and shrivels all the soul ; 
 All, all, with all its great capacities. 
 If, like the ocean deep, this deadly draught 
 Would make it a Sahara. Were it vast 
 As the whole universe, or high as heaven 
 This cup of death destroys the noblest man. 
 And makes him .worse than idiot. Better far, 
 Be born a fool, and tread the lane of life 
 In senseless innocence, than born with great 
 Capacities for good, great soul, great hopes, 
 
1 6 Marian: A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 Great possibilities ; every nerve 
 Thrilling to every touch of joy or pain; 
 To have all w^ithered, shrunken, scorched and burnt 
 Into a blasted ruin, by a slow 
 And sure and deadly poison, dealt by him, 
 And such as him, who yesterday reached out 
 That poison cup to me; that brought me where I 
 am. 
 
 XII. 
 
 He knew; he knew that I wae once enslaved; 
 He knew my fearful struggles and my falls ; 
 And my escape ; how long I had been free ; 
 At what a price I had obtained my freedom ; 
 And what a priceless boon it was to me. 
 And I had influenced others, too. For they, • 
 My boon companions, who had seen me slave, 
 Now saw me free. They gathered strength and 
 
 hope. 
 I, who had long been toiling at the oar, 
 A galley slave of rum ; and those who make 
 Their gold by selling it, now daily used 
 My freedom well. With constant, patient toil, 
 I sawed and ever sawed the cruel chains 
 That loaded and that cursed my brothers. 
 And as I worked I ever prayed, and bade 
 Them look to Him, the blessed Christ who once 
 Was lifted up that men might look to him. 
 
Marian: A Prisoner s Soliloquy . 
 
 Who is the life, the light. Some hugged their 
 
 chains, 
 And would not have them loosed. But there were 
 
 some 
 That sorrowed for the past. They laid their sins 
 On Him, who died to bear them, trusted Him 
 To give them life and power; to make them free 
 Indeed. They looked, and lo ! the serpent's bite 
 Was healed, and they were free, and sang His praise 
 From Whom deliverance came. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 But what of him, the dread destroyer? him, 
 Who preys upon his race? The licensed thief, 
 Licensed betrayer, murderer of his fellows ; 
 Not poor himself, yet making many rich; 
 But who grew rich, by making many poor. 
 Ah, what of him ? he watched me, marked me. Saw 
 With growing hate, that wished to work me ill, 
 To change the current's course, that turned his mill 
 I worked ; to stop the ceaseless mill ; the mill 
 That took in bread, and gave forth serpents in 
 Its place. For eggs gave poison. For pure gold, 
 Gave poverty, decay, disease and death ; 
 Alas, the second death; eternal death; 
 That never dies; the fire that never can 
 Be quenched. 
 
t8 Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy 
 
 XIV. 
 
 He sought to catch 
 
 Me in his toils again. The human reptile 
 
 Lurking in his den; he wove his wily web, 
 
 And set his secret snare, and waiting, w^atched, 
 
 To catch my unwary feet. Ah, evil hour ; 
 
 I came too near. The deadly serpent sprang; 
 
 Transfixed me with his cruel fangs; and twined 
 
 His loathesome, strong and many winding coils 
 
 Round heart and brain; and I am here alone, — 
 
 Lost, lost, a captured prisoner for crime, 
 
 A deadl}^ crime, the murder of my wife. 
 
 O, Marian, Marian, Marian! Art thou gone? 
 
 And by my hand. Alas ! I did not know. 
 
 It was the fiery poison laid thee low. 
 
 That, not thy Archie, gave the fatal blow. 
 
 XV. 
 
 And he, the tempter, monster, he who wrought 
 With anxious care to make me victim; he 
 Who mixed the fiery, fatal draught, infused 
 With other subtle poisons; he who made 
 Me Marian's murderer. O, my God, Thou knowest. 
 Thou clearly knowest, I knew not what I did. 
 And when I woke in this drear, narrow cell, 
 Knew not what I had done. Am I, in thy 
 Sight guilty of the crime, or he who gave 
 
Marian: A Prisoner s Soliloquy. 19 
 
 ■ — — ^ 
 
 The poison? I, or he? who in the name 
 
 Of law, laid unclean hands on me. Yes, hands 
 
 So stained, so darkly stained ; at thought of them, 
 
 I start with terror of his coming doom. 
 
 He dared to lay his hands upon, and bring 
 
 Me here. He has a double license, so 
 
 It seems, from the same righteous guardians of 
 
 The peace — license to sell me poison, death 
 
 And madness ; license, too, to place me here ; 
 
 A lonely captive, in a lonely cell, 
 
 For what I did when my bewildered brain 
 
 Was fired to madness by the draught he gave — 
 
 Licensed to give his neighbor drink ; to make 
 
 Him drunken ; when a mighty voice cries, Woe, 
 
 Woe, woe, to him that ever does so. 
 
 The voice of Him, of Him who made the world ; 
 
 And watches it; its omnipresent king. 
 
 The great omniscient guardian of the peace, 
 
 Who now looks down, where once He dwelt; 
 
 where once 
 He died; to which he will one day come back, 
 And call the faithless stewards to account. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Licensed to sell his brother drink; to make 
 Him drunken; yes, to murder all he can 
 By poison; Aye, the law protects and shields 
 Him, while he carries on his deadly trade. 
 
20 Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 The very law, which binds with heavy chains 
 His crazy victims, for a sudden blow, 
 All blindly given. Perchance a fatal blow, 
 As that I gave. Licensed to break the laws 
 Of God. And he to punish others; he 
 To dare lay finger on his victim. He 
 Will say, the law protects me. What a law, 
 That breaks God's law? A short protection that. 
 Laws made for pelf, or party purposes, and which 
 Ignore God's higher law, are null and void. 
 Can they protect him when his spirit stands 
 Before his Make's l)ar? Can they ward off 
 The awful vials of His wrath? Can they, 
 O can they shelter from the frown of Him, 
 Whose laws have been defied, betrayed, 
 Whose righteous mandates broken. 
 
 XVIL 
 
 Who is responsible for Marian's death? 
 
 The tempter or the tempted? Say, O say. 
 
 Ye thoughtful ones, who think, and deeply think; 
 
 Who trace effects up to their certain cause. 
 
 As rivers to their source, then back again, 
 
 From cause, trace all the mazy windings of 
 
 Effect, as does the explorer rivers. Brave 
 
 And heroic men, with patient toil have searched 
 
 To find the sources of the Nile, so long 
 
 A mystery. But, ah, we know the source, 
 
Marian: A Prisoner's SolUoquw 
 
 The deadly source of this long, broad, defep, swift, 
 World-sweeping tide of death. All see and know, 
 Except the wonld-be blind, who shut their eyes, 
 Who will not look, lest haply they should see; 
 Who will not pause in the mad rush for gold 
 One moment to consider. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Speak, tell me who is guilty, he, or I? 
 
 Ah, would to God, that he had given the blow 
 
 To me, which I to Marian gave. Ah, Christ, 
 
 Would he had struck me dead. Far better thus, 
 
 Than give to me accursed alcohol. 
 
 Would I hav.e killed her, but for him ? Would I 
 
 Have struck the being whom I loved the most ? 
 
 The star of my existence; her, my heart's 
 
 Crown jewel; her, without whose presence all 
 
 The world is but a dreary, cheerless void; 
 
 A day without a sun ; a desert plain 
 
 Without an oasis ; a thirsty waste 
 
 Without a single flower ; a wilderness 
 
 Where springs no fountain; prairie broad and vast. 
 
 Of wearying sameness ; where no graceful tree 
 
 Stretches its leafy arms. Would I harm her? 
 
 Without the sunshine of whose happy smile, 
 
 There is no music in the rapturous songs 
 
 Of the free birds; the warbling brook has none ; 
 
 The shining river, on its winding way 
 
^2 
 
 Marian: A Prisoner's Solilocjitx. 
 
 To the great sea, without her, has for me, 
 
 No beauty and no song. The mighty swell 
 
 Of the broad ocean's heaving bosom, means 
 
 Woe to me now. Ah, how I loved to sit. 
 
 With Marian by my side, at sunlit eve 
 
 Upon the sands; to watch its shining face; 
 
 And see its waters swelling at my feet ; 
 
 With that low, mystic, dreamy music, that 
 
 I loved so well. But that is over now ; 
 
 And I am here. O, where is Marian now? 
 
 Earth is a barren waste where she is not; 
 
 Home is no home to me where she is not. 
 
 I have no home; naught but what once was home; 
 
 Ah no, that is not mine ; my home is here. 
 
 A jail, my only home. It matters not. 
 
 Aye, strike my fetters off, and set me free; 
 
 All earth would be a dismal, gloomy cell, 
 
 And I a prisoner. All of alcohol. 
 
 Should I not hate so vile a monster? 
 
 They call it ''God's good creature," such as he, 
 
 Who gave the poisoned cup, that maddened me. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 And he dare lay his villainous, blood-red hand. 
 
 His murderous hand on me and bring me here, 
 
 For murder of my wife; he to arrest; 
 
 To carry me to jail. Take note : Ha, ha. 
 
 The very friends might laugh, who helped him, 
 
Marion: A Prisojicr's Soliloqitw 23 
 
 And exult, at their success and his. And he 
 
 Is free to carry on his deadly trade; 
 
 Free to ensnare, betray his fellow-men; 
 
 And shear them of their locks of strength. He, free, 
 
 A wholesale murderer free? Yes, more than free, 
 
 A servant of the law, arrested me, 
 
 While guilty, guilty, guilty he. 
 
 XX. 
 
 He had a warrant to arrest me. Hear ! 
 And from the very man who dared to give 
 Him legal right to poison me, to kill 
 Me if he could. He put the weapon in 
 My hand. Held out to me the cup of death. 
 The cup of madness ; then he bade me drink, 
 And madly I obeyed. The serpent coiled 
 Around my brain in scaly torturing folds, 
 And bade me strike. Father I knew not wdiat 
 I did; for reason, self-control were fled. 
 But Father, not so he. Ah yes, he did, 
 He knew all that the cup would do for me ; 
 Would Lbut take one glass. He meant my ruin. 
 And he is horror-stricken now; at such 
 A fearful crime ; and he its cruel cause. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Who is the dangerous man among his fellows, 
 I, or he ? I, safe and saving others, but 
 
24 Marian : .-] Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 For him. He, poisoning and degrading others, 
 
 xA.nd licensed too, to poison other men. 
 
 To carry on the ministry of death. 
 
 And I am here in this dark cell, condemned. 
 
 Alas, the fatal blow, I gave to Marian 
 
 When my brain was maddened by the fiery draught, 
 
 He had a legal right to give. And I 
 
 Am here in this bleak prison-house, debarred 
 
 From all my work ; the noble, hallowed work 
 
 Which my soul loved, the ministry of life ; 
 
 To call all men my brothers; stretch out hands 
 
 Of help to all who needed help; to save 
 
 And bless and elevate. Because of this. 
 
 This trader in bondslaves and souls of men. 
 
 Was my sworn enemy. He hated me. 
 
 Because I had escaped his toils ; and stood 
 
 Upon my feet and said. Am I not, too, 
 
 A man. He hated me because I tried 
 
 To help and strengthen others. _ 
 
 XXII. 
 
 An angel's power ; a serpent's craft applied 
 And practiced, for so many thousand years, 
 On our lapsed race, where none are over wise, 
 And few are wise at all. Where is our hope 
 When those who should be helpers, those in power, 
 With blinded eyes and hardened hearts which will 
 Not see, nor hear, are with the serpent leagued, 
 
Marian: A Prisoifer's Soliloquy. 25 
 
 To deck and crown and make respectable, 
 
 To give increasing life and power and force, 
 
 To this great beast so terrible ; this beast — 
 
 This many horned and many headed beast 
 
 That stalks the earth? 
 
 This deadly monster rising from the still, 
 
 Who sweeping o'er the earth, blasts and destroys 
 
 Vast armies of humanity. Far, far. 
 
 More terrible than famine, pestilence, 
 
 And war combined. Alas, the very sun 
 
 And the free air are darkened by the smoke, 
 
 The belching, poisonous, black and sickening 
 
 smoke, 
 Breathed from the pit from which the locusts 
 
 spring. 
 
 With such a deadly sting; whose power is to 
 
 Hurt men. O, Alcohol, thou art a vampire ; 
 
 Art drunken with the blood of millions of 
 
 Our race. Thou art a monster parasite, 
 
 Who, with ten thousand cruel fangs dost grasp, 
 
 The stately, beautiful and shadowing tree. 
 
 Of human life ; the life, which lifts its head 
 
 To heaven, and wears a more than princely crown 
 
 Of glorious foliage, strong and myriad leaved; 
 
 All tremulous, with thousand budding hopes 
 
 And loves, high aims, bright prospects, and a world, 
 
 A grand, new opening, undiscovered world 
 
 Of life and thought ; that rises on the growing 
 
2.6 Marian : A Prisoner s SoViIoquy. 
 
 Soul, and looms up in the distance. But, 
 This monstrous growth, this moral night shade, 
 eats, 
 
 And surely eats, straight tc the very heart 
 
 Of this, so pleasant and so goodly tree, 
 
 And it begins to wither; withers still; 
 
 The foliage droops and then the vigorous green . 
 
 To yellow turns ; the leaves begin to drop, 
 
 Then falling, falling*, until all are gone ; 
 
 And tli€ bare branches bleak and naked, stretch, 
 
 Between the earth and heaven. The very trunk 
 
 Is eaten to the heart. There comes a blast 
 
 Some day, and it is levelled; and becomes 
 
 Unsightly rubbish ; fuel for the flames. 
 
 Not this in winter, but in life's bright prime; 
 
 In the mid-summer of his year; this comes 
 
 To pass. And then, the twining ivy green 
 
 And beautiful, of womanhood, which clung 
 
 Around the stately tree ; and wound and wove 
 
 Its tendrils for support, and lived beneath 
 
 Its shadow; how that withered as the tree 
 
 Decayed ; how rudely it was torn at last ; 
 
 And when, at length the rotten, blasted trunk 
 
 Fell to the earth, how this, too, fell, and l)led 
 
 Its life away. And then, the flowers of childhood, 
 
 Pure and sweet and innocent ; so like 
 
 The 'Xily of the Valley" ; they, that sprung 
 
 Beneath the shadow of those spreading boughs, 
 
Marian: A Prisoiicr's SoUhnjiiv. 21 
 
 Guarded and sheltered ; ah, they withered, too ; 
 When the green foliage fell. The noontide heat 
 Fell on them, then, too fiercely, and the blasts 
 Of autumn chilled them, and in winter's frosts, 
 Full mau}^ perished. But a remnant lived ; 
 Still lived and lingered on, a wan and weak, 
 A blighted, sickly life, unkempt, untrained, 
 Uncultured, growing* wild as wildest weeds 
 That ever grew ; until those swelling buds. 
 That gave such promise once, at length became 
 A tangled, useless scrawl of thorns and briars; 
 Where serpents crawled and hissed ; where bloated 
 
 spiders 
 W^ove their webs; where deadly adders stung; 
 Where vile, envenomed vipers lurked unseen ; 
 Where poisons, grew among that tangled green ; 
 And rank, unsightly, noxious tares were seen; 
 Far better, far, if they had never been. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Why, why, this dreary waste? which once bid fair 
 
 To be a cultured garden? Why the wild 
 
 And sprawling bramble? where once brightly 
 
 sprang 
 A plant, that should be rising now; grown up 
 In youth ; tall, straight and beautiful. Why all 
 These rough, ungainly, rude, unpolished stones? 
 
28 Marian : A Prisoners Soliloquy. 
 
 Those restless, rolling stones, which never clothe 
 
 Themselves with moss, to g*ive them beauty, 
 
 Which never have a firm foundation fixed. 
 
 To give them strength ; and make them a support 
 
 By life's wayside. These stones'that mar the fair. 
 
 Smooth surface of the fields, had they been hewn, 
 
 Been squarely hewn and brightly polished, would 
 
 Have furnished many precious corner stones. 
 
 Fitted to grace a palace. But, alas, alas, 
 
 The Sculptor was not wise. He was deceived, 
 
 Betrayed; the serpent coiling in a cup of wine, 
 
 Sprang forth, and stung him; palsied his right arm 
 
 Of strength ; the fiery poison shrivelled up 
 
 His brain; the studio of his broadening mind. 
 
 The goodly chamber where his spirit dwelt ; 
 
 His soul's l)right home ; a home of magic wonders, 
 
 Mystical and rare; the wondrous working of 
 
 The mighty architect divine. 
 
 Yes, alcohol — 
 
 The cruel monster, held his fiaming torch 
 Forth as the sculptor worked, and fired that home ; 
 Then all the skill and power departed from 
 His hand, the beauty from his soul ; and made 
 His work a ruin. Why, these mighty trees. 
 These glorious trees ; so blasted, burnt as by 
 The lightning's flash? The very trunks are riven. 
 See, see them standing now; by thousands now; 
 Like useless driftwood, alb along the shores, 
 
Marian: A Prisouc/s Soliloquy. 29 
 
 Of life's swift river. Who destroyed all these? 
 These are the ruined. Who this ruin wrought? 
 Whence all this waste ; this scourge, this withering 
 
 blight, 
 On the bright foliage and the fragrant flowers; 
 On all the grandeur, glory, beauty, grace 
 Of our humanity? My soul, in vision sees. 
 As once a prophet saw, a valley full 
 Of bones, of those who once had walked the earth, 
 In all the pride of glorious manhood. There 
 They lay ; the silent remnants of a host 
 Innumerable. They were very many. 
 And were very dry. Who slew this vast 
 And mighty army? Thou art the demon, thou, 
 Dark, terrible destroyer; that dost rise 
 From the black smoke of the distiller's pit, 
 And breathes out fire and flame. A deadly flame ; 
 A keen, blue flame, that scorches, burns and blasts. 
 And ruins and degrades, the loftiest soul ; 
 Yea, drives it madly on to woe and death; 
 On to eternal darkness. Breathing out 
 A fire, that ever sweeps upon the vast, 
 The human prairie, heaving like the sea, 
 The mighty sea; and leaving in its track, 
 A black and ghastly ruin. -' 
 
30 Marian : A Prisoners Soliloquy. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Alas, that I 
 
 Should have to say it ; they, who have the power 
 To soon destroy this dread, devouring monster, 
 This awful vampire ; preying on our race ; 
 This vulture fierce; who sits upon his crag, 
 Who sits and watches, waiting to devour. 
 Ah, hear it heaven, that those, their fellow-men 
 Have trusted, through that trust, have raised to 
 
 seats 
 Of power; those whose united voices, blent 
 As one great voice, gave you your power, have lent 
 It to you ; lent to plan, devise and scheme 
 In one united counsel ; wisely plan. 
 And for their country's good. Alas, that they 
 Should so betray their trust. . That those who rule 
 The nations should agree to give such power 
 And strength, to such a deadly beast, so great. 
 So worldly-wide, so terrible in might ; 
 That army numberless his power has slain, 
 Whose dry bones fill death's valley; those who now 
 Are being slain ; and those who will be slain ; 
 Will yet arise; will stand upon their feet; 
 And you will meet the victims, face to face ; 
 Yes, you will meet them, who refuse to chain 
 This dread, devouring monster of the still ; 
 But framed such laws as let him roam at will ; 
 And gave him power and li1)erty to kill. 
 
Marian: A Prisoner s Soliloquy. 31 
 
 Distiller, yoit will meet them ; you who keep 
 
 The license key, and sell it, to create 
 
 An open bar; as that I know of; and 
 
 That brought me here. A licensed bar ! a curse, 
 
 No matter where it is, in town or country. 
 
 Yes, you will meet them in His presence ; His, 
 
 Whose eyes are as a flame of fire; whose feet 
 
 As finest brass, that in a furnace burns; 
 
 And whose almighty voice, is as the sound ^ 
 
 Of many waters ; from Whose mouth proceeds 
 
 A sharp, two-edged sword, with which to smite 
 
 All things of evil ; those who do, and who 
 
 Give power to evil, who abuse the power, 
 
 But given to them of God. Yes, you will meet 
 
 The armies of the slain, ye powers that be, 
 
 In that dread presence, when the trembling heavens 
 
 Shall flee away, the mountains be not found, 
 
 And with a wild, affrighted, bitter cry, 
 
 Call for the rocks; call for the hills to fall 
 
 And hide you, hide you from the burning eye 
 
 Of your oftended judge. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Hear, hear in heaven, Thy lofty dwelling-place, 
 Thou great Creator of the human race. 
 What men dare do, on this Thy footstool, when 
 They have but power. They dare make legal that 
 On which Thou hast pronounced such fearful woe. 
 
32 Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 For what, great Father? Can, O can it be, 
 
 A voice rings in my ear; can this be true? 
 
 This trade goes on to swell the revenue. 
 
 This trade, in woe and death, goes briskly on; 
 
 This trade, the broad, well-beaten road to crimes, 
 
 Of every name, to every human woe. 
 
 The curse rolls on; the deadly curse rolls on. 
 
 And why? Are all men mad, or fools, or worse? 
 
 This curse rolls on, to build a revenue. 
 
 What, blast and blight and scourge a nation's 
 
 homes ; 
 The home, the nation's rock; its corner-stone. 
 Shake its foundations, for a paltry gain ; 
 A paltry, seeming gain; but real loss. 
 Lasting, great, deep, unmeasurable loss. 
 Look at the sufferer, tossing on his couch ; 
 And call that strength and vigor, which is born 
 Of fever and delirium ; but, never call 
 That gain which makes men poor; whose very 
 
 touch, 
 Brings blight and shame. Alas, 1, here in jail; 
 Behold me here, a victim of the trade, 
 Which heartless men are licensed to pursue; 
 Heaven hear it ! to increase the revenue. 
 Father of love, how long, O Lord, how long? 
 All power in heaven and earth to Thee belong; 
 Wilt Thou look down and see this mighty wrong; 
 
Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 33 
 
 Ere Thou dost smite. How long; how long; how 
 
 long; 
 Before the seething cup of wrath is filled, 
 And overflows. Behold, behold me here ; 
 A blighted, blasted product of the trade ; 
 Not the illicit trade. No, that is for 
 The slums ; the thousands ruined by the curse 
 Of legal traffic, now its castaways. 
 A license: what is that? A pillar strong 
 And mighty, which the law supplies, to give 
 This giant evil power to wreck mankind. 
 Ah, license is the curse, the ruin and 
 The bane, the social bane, this and not that. 
 That hides itself away in dismal dens, 
 Beyond the eye of law. 'Tis license kills; 
 'Tis license ruins men ; the other feeds 
 Upon the ruined ; those the licensed trade 
 Has cast away; as the receding tide 
 Casts on the shore, the useless driftwood. Yes, 
 The low, vile den, on which majestic law 
 Would look with withering frown, and sweep it 
 
 from 
 
 Existence ; is the progeny of that 
 
 Saloon, on which he smiles. The low, black craft, 
 
 The pirate craft, that sails in the deep shade 
 
 Of night ; has only those on board made waifs 
 
 And outcasts, by the previous voyages made 
 
 On board the licensed privateer, whose king 
 
34 Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 Is angel of the burning pit; whose captain is 
 Alcohol. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Beneath the goodly shadow of the law, 
 
 The first, the fatal glass, is given, in all 
 
 The fresh, young glory of his opening years, 
 
 To dawning manhood. Then, protected by 
 
 His legal cloak, he smiles, with wily arts, 
 
 He tracks and lures his victim, on along 
 
 The downward road, until, alas ! at. length, 
 
 He plunges on with terrible momentum. 
 
 Then poverty and degradation come 
 
 Like strong, armed men; and he, the heartless 
 
 shape. 
 In guise of man, who had a legal right 
 To ruin him; thus robs him of his manhood, 
 Then kicks the crazy, ragged, gibbering wretch, 
 The awful wr^ck that he himself has made. 
 Out in the storm and darkness. I have seen 
 It done, so many, many times; have heard 
 The stony-hearted, black destroyer, say, — 
 He would disgrace my house. Look, look on such 
 A one. Behold your work. It should disgrace 
 Your house. Should make of it a lasting terror. 
 Would God, that sight of one such human wreck, 
 Would then and there, with utter, deep disgrace, 
 Obscure that house, and every such, forever. 
 
Marian : A Prisoners Soliloquy. 35 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 O, that I could send forth a mighty voice ; 
 
 From out these dismal walls, that prison me ; 
 
 To sound through all this great round, teeming 
 
 world ; 
 To warn all men, my brothers ; not to come 
 Into the trap, whose cruel jaws will spring; 
 Where such a deadly viper coils within. 
 xA.h ! would to heaven, that from my burning brain, 
 My weary, throbbing, overburdened brain, 
 I could shut out the vision, horrible, 
 Of all that I have seen. How often, O, 
 How often, have I seen a once loved friend, 
 A battered, trembling ruin, of what once 
 Was man; whose presence would disgrace that 
 
 house. 
 Where daily new and shining webs were wove, 
 To catch fresh victims. Seen him stagger on, 
 Away, away, from that vile den of thieves. 
 Where he had been deceived, betrayed and robbed; 
 Yes, robbed of everything: of name; of fame; 
 Of home, and happiness ; of honor, wealth. 
 And manhood; everything that makes life life. 
 Thence, staggering on along the busy street, 
 A wretched, loathsome, pitiable sight, 
 At which the licensed liquor seller's well 
 Kept mastiff barked ; full long and loudly barked. 
 
36 Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 And urchins jeered and laughed. The wreck passed 
 
 on, 
 Still ever and anon reached out a hand, 
 A trembling hand for alms. Until, at length, 
 A vile decoy seized like a bird of prey. 
 And bore him where, from eye of law and day, 
 The same vile traffic, hides itself away; 
 Takes on its lowest forms, and slakes the thirst, 
 Waked otherwheres, with other viler drinks, 
 With others mixed, more deadly, fiery still. 
 Of the same poison draught. Alas, the work 
 Is finished soon; his latest home on earth. 
 The poor-house, or the maniac's cell, to die, 
 As oft by his own hand; lost, lost forever. 
 Father in heaven, the searchlight of Thine eye 
 Reachest through space ; Thou knowest this is true ; 
 These wrecks are made to swell the revenue. 
 Thou, who dost watch this fallen human race 
 Which were created for Thy pleasure, for 
 Thy glory and Thine honor; why, so blind, so 
 
 weak? 
 Alas, to see them thus; whirled madly on; 
 In the swift, leaping, swirling rapids borne. 
 Of life's Niagara. On to the very verge; 
 Over the cataract, the fearful plunge. 
 Into the vortex of a lost eternitv. 
 
Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. * 37 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 T knew of many such. Were they all fools? 
 No, no, ten thousand times we answer, no. 
 Many, were men of might, who held vast crowds 
 For hours spellbound, with their resistless floods 
 Of eloquence. And many more, were men 
 Of wealth and culture and refinement ; who 
 Had made their homes a sacred, shadowy bower 
 Where Genius loved to turn aside and rest. 
 Where in draped riches, sculptured beauty dwelt; 
 Where art and letters met with beaming smiles, 
 Religion there and science walked together; 
 They talked, consulted and compared accounts, 
 And long discoursed ; each, of the place assigned 
 To each, in God's creation ; and how each 
 Were best employed ; and best could be about 
 Their Master's business. Then when sceptics 
 
 looked 
 For science to assume the foremost place, 
 They paused, and closely clasped each other's hand; 
 And meek religion took the highest seat. 
 Then stately science bowed his lordly head ; 
 And sat down humbly at her saintly feet. 
 To learn of her, and to her radiant face 
 Ever looked up, till from the bright reflex 
 Of that calm face above the face upraised, 
 Still ever grew more heavenly. Love was there ; 
 Dwelt as presiding spirit in that home. 
 
38 Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 Aye, but the serpent came, and drove them forth ; 
 Forth, from that happy, sheltered, peaceful home ; 
 Almost an Eden ; and ah, too, perhaps, 
 First to a modern Eve the tempter came; 
 The stately queen, of such a stately home, 
 As she prepared the viands for a feast, 
 Costly and rare, and she, in turn, became 
 The tempter ; holding out v^ith witching smiles, 
 The sparkling glass of brightly beaded wine ; 
 And sweetly asked, and would not be denied 
 Her guests, the young and beautiful, to taste; 
 To drink it all ; and w^ith resistless grace 
 Such as the moonbeams when their peaceful sheen, 
 A magic beauty casts o'er nature's face ; 
 Casts o'er the beauteous home our Father built, 
 The royal Eden garden which He made ; 
 And planted, shaded, watered for the use 
 Of him, the glorious being whom His hand 
 Had made, but little lower than the angels; 
 Then bade him dress and keep it. But he fell ; 
 And with him all his race. They fell; they fell; 
 But never lower than when locked and barred 
 In the dark dungeon of the castle grim, 
 Whose sovereign is the giant Alcohol; 
 Whose warder is a brainless, heartless shape ; 
 The most distorted, meanest form of man; 
 Who does the giant's bidding; keeps the key, 
 The strong and oily key of license ; turns 
 
Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 39 
 
 It glibly in the lock; on me; on you; 
 
 Will turn it on us, ere we are aware ; 
 
 Then come not near ; beware ; beware ; beware. 
 
 And you, ye stewards of the law; you, you. 
 
 Sell him this key, to help the revenue. 
 
 You make it legal for this human fiend. 
 
 To bind and hold these once so noble men ; 
 
 Whose lives gave promise of as rich and ripe 
 
 And mellow fruitage as was ever found, 
 
 Upon the lofty tree of human nature. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Ah, yes, I say, you make it legal; you 
 Sell this soulless man the power to curse 
 These others; brother men; but, for this trade 
 In human souls; so noble and so great; 
 Perhaps so Christly; so prepared to enter in 
 The Father's kingdom ; but through this vile trade, 
 From all its glory and its blessedness 
 Shut out forever. Yes, forevermore. 
 Through all the endless ages yet to be. 
 He takes these princes of the human race. 
 And makes them paupers. You, again I say, 
 Protect him for the paltry sum he pays 
 You for the awful power. How terrible. 
 And what is the result? This murderer of 
 His brothers; this ten-thousand fold, a Cain; 
 This creeping, sure assassin; land and river 
 
40 Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 Thief; this chief, insidious burglar; from 
 
 The pick of whose dread license key, no home 
 
 Is safe; is ever busy plying all 
 
 These trades in one combined. On, on, she goes, 
 
 This mightily condensed, steam engine of 
 
 Destruction. Ah, what hope for those who fall 
 
 Down bound and chained and helpless in the track 
 
 Of this fierce, fiery monster; this who knows 
 
 No mercy; never swerves or turns aside, 
 
 Or switches off. He stamps out manhood ; stamps 
 
 Out childhood, womanhood, as on the hard 
 
 Quartz rock, the crusher stamps and grinds the 
 
 flints 
 To powder? Down they go; the happy homes, 
 With all their wealth of beauty, all their light 
 And warmth and comfort, all refinement go ; 
 All culture, piety and prayer. The rum 
 Fiend ravins as the wolf. Down from the walls 
 He tears the costly pictures ; tears with tooth 
 And claw, the sculptured marbles from their niches ; 
 The gathered stores of choicest volumes, from 
 Their shelves ; and cast them down in one confused, 
 Promiscuous heap of ruin. Then a torch, 
 Fed by the fumes of Alcohol, applied 
 To the sad wreck; and of the precious treasures, 
 Gathered, through all the past and happier years, 
 Makes a huge bonfire. Ah, that once bright home ! 
 Pass by it now. Look on the ruin now. 
 
Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloq uy. 41 
 
 Empty and silent, desolate and cold; 
 
 No cheerful firelight now, upon the hearth ; 
 
 No living warmth looks from the windows now; 
 
 Now it is dark and tenantless and cold, 
 
 As the drear, hollow caverns of a skull, 
 
 Where once the bright eye shone. How sad. How 
 
 lone. 
 The door-stone overgrown with tangled vines; 
 The sweet fiowers choked to death with grasping 
 
 arms 
 Of hateful weeds; the smooth, green velvet of 
 The lovely lawn, a tangled mass of tall,' 
 Lank grasses, wildly tossed about; they sigh 
 And writhe and whistle in the driving winds. 
 Like restless, wretched, wailing human things, 
 That mourn the lost and rpined. Where are they 
 Who once dwelt there? Where is the lordly king? 
 Who as the eagle built his nest so hig-h* 
 And had his castle there? King Alcohol 
 Besieged him boldly; battered down the hard. 
 Strong walls; the draw-bridge levelled; crossed the 
 
 moat 
 And seized the master, in his upper room 
 And bore him far away; away in chains; 
 A helpless captive to a maniac's cell. 
 The lady of the castle, withered, died ; 
 The children waifs and paupers. Such the fate 
 Of thousands, thousands of once happy homes; 
 
42 Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 In every land and country. Stop this work. 
 
 Arrest this thief. O, chain this dire assassin; 
 
 Haste ; quarantine this spreading pestilence, 
 
 The suffering peoples say. The rum power shouts : 
 
 I have a license ; touch me not, for I 
 
 Have power to spread this fierce disease ; have paid 
 
 The rulers of the lands for liberty 
 
 To spread this plague ; insert this poison into 
 
 Every vein I can. What, who are you? 
 
 This makes me rich and swells the revenue. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Ye, who rule 
 
 The councils of the peoples, nevermore 
 
 Upon your standards, loudly blazon forth, 
 
 That might makes right ; but ever let your might 
 
 Walk hand in hand with right. Be like to Him, 
 
 The blameless king who sought His people's good; 
 
 His people's good alone. Who was, in all 
 
 He sought and did, a faithful follower He, 
 
 Of Him, the habitation of Whose throne. 
 
 Is judgment and true justice. Like "Edyrn 
 
 Of Nudd", who wed, till it was clean, the wild. 
 
 Neglected garden of his heart. Weed out 
 
 This giant growth of sin ; this th-istle, which 
 
 Has never borne a fig; this bramble bush, 
 
 From which was never plucked a grape ; this curse 
 
 Of earth; we know it by its deadly fruit; 
 
Marian : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 43 
 
 Apples of Sodom, which to ashes turn, 
 And poison all who eat of them. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Forbidden fruit ; 
 
 As that in earth's first garden, which He said. 
 
 Who planted it, "Of that thou shalt not eat," 
 
 Of this, what saith the mighty Word of God? 
 
 What is His message to the tempted now? 
 
 Look not upon the cup, when it is fair 
 
 To look upon. Touch not the serpent, when 
 
 He moves himself aright. What to the tempter? 
 
 Woe, woe to him who gives to others, that 
 
 Which makes them drunken. But the serpent 
 
 comes; 
 Still comes; he whispers in the tempter's ear: 
 Quick, give it to him; tell the same old lie; 
 'Twill make him wise; he shall not surely die. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Haste, to the rescue ; build a mighty dam 
 Between this deadly fountain and our race. 
 Build up, as high as heaven, that so, at length, 
 This dread and swiftly sweeping tide of death 
 May cease its deadly flow. Build on ; build on ; 
 Ye men of heaven ; ye soldiers of the cross ; 
 Ye, whom vour leader calls into the field. 
 
44 Marian: A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 
 
 Build though the great Goliah of the pit, 
 And all his legions swarm to bar your way; 
 To mar and stop your work. Build on; build on; 
 God and good angels help you ; be your shield, 
 And guard you with a w^all of fire ; for more 
 Are they that be with you than they that be 
 With them. The battle may be long and sore 
 And hardly won; but victory is sure. 
 Apjproach this cruel, boasting giant, armed 
 Like Judah's youthful shepherd simply ; meet 
 His power, inspired with trust for wisdom, strength. 
 In His availing name ; before Whose might. 
 Hosts are as nothing; but will fly as chaff 
 Before the breathings of His glorious power. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Father, we know it, that beneath these skies, 
 Throuoh which Thou lookest on Thv creatures 
 
 here ; 
 And yet to know, that liberty is given 
 To such a juggernaut, to daily roll 
 Through all our streets; beneath the pressure of 
 Whose heavy wheels the power and nobleness 
 Of manhood ; tenderness and love and grace. 
 Of suffering womanhood ; the beauty and 
 The bliss of childhood's joy ; are all crushed out. 
 Ye powers that be; that were ordained of God; 
 
Marian : A Prisoner's Soli loquy. 45 
 
 Ordained to punish and to hinder evil; 
 
 To nourish good ; make strong and righteous laws ; 
 
 And see that they are kept. Laws wise and pure ; 
 
 Uplifting laws, and moulded laws to save 
 
 And bless, all whom they touch ; to harmonize 
 
 With His, in Whom we live and move and have 
 
 Our being. Run in the blessed mold of His, 
 
 By Whose permission only you are there, 
 
 As stewards of His house. We pray you, in 
 
 The name of Him, who in that coming day, 
 
 Will summon you before the great white throne, 
 
 That He has set for judgment; there will call 
 
 You to account; how used, the stewardship 
 
 He gave. That you would rouse yourselves, at 
 
 length, 
 Awake from your deep slumbers; and implore 
 That Christ Himself, Who is the source of light; 
 The one true light, would fill your souls with light; 
 Open your eyes and clothe you with His might. 
 Father, Omnipotent; Eternal One; 
 For His dear sake, in Whom Thou art well pleased,, 
 In Jesus sacred name; the only name. 
 By which we can be saved; from these blind eyes 
 Cast out the beam, that they may look abroad. 
 And see and tremble for their land and country. 
 
46 Marian : A Prisoner s Soliloquy. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Father, forgive them; for they seem to know 
 Not what they do. But speak Thy word of power; 
 Say unto them — ''Ephthatha." Rise. Awake. 
 And send them forth to look abroad and see, 
 The swarming locusts spreading o'er the lands; 
 All beauty, greenness, blasting as they go; 
 Then like the heroes they were meant to be, 
 Rush to the conflict; haste, as though their own 
 Existence here and life forevermore, 
 Depended on the issue. Haste, quickly haste ; 
 Chain the old serpent of the smoking still. 
 With such a chain, so strong, that all his power 
 Shall speedily -depart, and nevermore 
 Shall he go forth in might, to blast and blight. 
 And to deceive the nations. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The sword of Local Option is too short, 
 
 Too dull and rusty ; never will it pierce 
 
 The scaly folds, the double-plated armor 
 
 Of the huge giant springing from the still. 
 
 No, no, the gathering bands, the drilling ranks, 
 
 The mustering squadrons of the temperance hosts 
 
 Must seize the long, sharp, pointed, two-edged 
 
 sword 
 Of Prohibition ; form one solid square ; 
 
Marion : A Prisoner's Soliloquy. 47 
 
 And with a cheer that rends the very heavens; 
 A prayer, that moves the arm, that moves the 
 
 world ; 
 A rush that nothing earthly can withstand, 
 Drive the bright, keen blade home; aye, home, 
 
 right home ; 
 Home to the cruel demon's very heart ; 
 And leave it there. Give him a deadly wound, 
 That never can be healed. A wound of which 
 The monster curse will die. At one fell stroke . 
 Cut off the long, strong tentacles that bind 
 The Senate and the Parliament ; the Lords 
 And Commons, and the Congress, too; that so, 
 No more, no more, forever, will they sell 
 A license to those murderers to pursue 
 This deadly work to swell the revenue. 
 Then, when the King of Righteousness shall come, 
 He, looking on your work shall say, ''Well done." 
 Because, though powerless to do all you would, 
 You yet were faithful and did what you could. 
 
 The End. 
 
iUN 8 1909 
 
W-i"